


We Can Take the Long Way Home

by enigmaticblue



Series: Sun 'Verse [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-11
Updated: 2011-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:47:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life can take some funny turns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thomasina75](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thomasina75/gifts).



Sam stretched out on his bed with unaccustomed laziness. Spring had finally come to western South Dakota, bringing with it the scent of warm, green earth and afternoon rains, and bright spots of color where wildflowers had sprung up. Howl had insisted that Sam take the day off, saying, “Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest, boy. We’re caught up on everything, and I know where to find you if I need you.”

 

Howl was the closest thing to a veterinarian that the area had, and he’d been training Sam to do a lot of stuff, including calving, so spring was their busiest time.

 

But things had slowed down some over the last week, and Howl had decreed that they were due a day of rest.

 

Sam sat up in bed slowly, running a hand through his hair, which had gotten even longer over the winter. He had no idea who in Cypress Grove cut hair, but he was ready for a change.

 

Ben was already awake and gone, but Sam could hear Mary moving around on the other side of the wall. Sam pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that looked reasonably clean and clattered down the stairs and across the yard to the house.

 

Casey was sitting at the kitchen table, her head on her arms, looking absolutely miserable.

 

“Hey, kiddo. What’s up?” Sam asked.

 

She shrugged.

 

“Come on,” Sam said, slicing a couple of pieces of bread for toast. “It can’t be that bad.”

 

Casey buried her head in her arms, and Sam heard her begin to sniffle.

 

“Oh, hey,” Sam said helplessly, sitting down in the seat next to her. “Whatever’s wrong, we can’t even try to fix it if you don’t tell somebody.”

 

“It’s my birthday soon,” Casey muttered, her words almost indistinguishable.

 

Sam blinked, a little uncertain as to why that would be a problem unless Dean and Cas didn’t know about it for some reason. He’d been living here long enough to know that they celebrated each kid’s birthday in style. In lieu of a response, he patted her gently on the shoulder, hoping that she would fill in the details.

 

“My dad promised he’d be back before then,” Casey added.

 

“Oh.” Sam wanted to point out that her dad still had a little time, but he wasn’t about to make that promise. Dean didn’t expect Casey’s dad ever to show up again.

 

Sam had experienced his share of broken promises from his dad, though, and he knew there was nothing he could say that would take away the sting Casey felt in that moment.

 

Sam put an arm around her thin shoulders. “I’m really sorry,” he replied, at a loss. “It sucks when your dad leaves you behind.”

 

“How would _you_ know?” Casey demanded, raising a tearstained face.

 

“Because my dad would leave us with friends when he had a job,” Sam replied. “There were a few years when he was gone for Christmas, or for my birthday or Dean’s.”

 

Her expression softened. “But he came back?”

 

“Eventually,” Sam agreed. “Have you talked to Dean or Cas about this? Maybe we could work something out so you could see your brothers.”

 

Casey shrugged. “They won’t care.”

 

“They’re your brothers,” Sam objected.

 

“They never wanted me around,” Casey replied.

 

Sam didn’t know how to respond to that assertion. He had no way to argue with her, not knowing her brothers. “You’ve got us, you know.”

 

Casey rubbed her damp face with the sleeve of her t-shirt. “No offense, but it’s not the same.”

 

“No offense taken,” Sam assured her. He studied her thin face, her smooth, dark hair that now hung to her chin. She had come to stay with Dean and Cas at the same time he’d arrived, and she had settled in fairly well. But there were times, like now, when she would get quiet and withdrawn, clearly longing for a father who had left her behind like so much unwanted baggage.

 

He heard the distinctive sound of Dean’s footsteps approaching the kitchen, and Casey hastily wiped her face. “Don’t tell Dean I was crying,” Casey pleaded. “I don’t want anybody to know.”

 

“You got it,” Sam agreed, and then Casey disappeared out the back door before Dean entered the kitchen.

 

Dean eyed the back door with curiosity when he entered the kitchen, but all he said was, “Hey, Sammy. Got the day off?”

 

“Yeah, Howl insisted that I take a day for myself.” Sam shrugged. “I was going to ask you who around town cuts hair.”

 

“Julia does,” Dean replied promptly. “And she won’t mind if you swing by today, although it’s a church day.”

 

Sam knew that Pastor Joe had several flocks, and that he rotated among them like the circuit preachers who had served the area a century ago. “What time should I go into town?”

 

“I’d wait until afternoon, but she’s usually home after that.” Dean hesitated, and then asked, “You want to tell me what’s going on with Casey?”

 

“Did you know her birthday’s coming up?” Sam asked.

 

Dean nodded slowly and settled himself at the kitchen table. “I did, actually. Two weeks from today, in fact. I wish there was more we could do. I know she’s homesick for her family.”

 

“Couldn’t we bring her brothers down for a weekend?” Sam asked. “We can’t contact her dad, but maybe we could do that much.”

 

Sam watched the wheels turn in Dean’s head as he considered the logistics of such a plan. “We might be able to swing it,” he said. “Most of the gas in the area gets used up for farm equipment this time of year, but we could try. I’ll talk to Cas.”

 

Sam nodded. He’d done what he could. “So, what does Julia usually charge for a haircut?”

 

Dean grinned. “Not that much for me, but for you and your mop? It’s probably extra.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes.

 

“Henry, Ben, and I went fishing this morning,” Dean continued. “We caught plenty, so you could take some to her. That should cover it.”

 

Sam frowned. “What about the other kids?”

 

“Mary wanted to sleep in, and Cas took Ryan and Cora to church.” At Sam’s sharp look, Dean explained, “Sometimes he likes to go, and their mom was pretty religious.”

 

“And Casey?” Sam asked.

 

“She wouldn’t go fishing,” Dean said simply. “And I wasn’t going to force her.”

 

“Makes sense,” Sam replied.

 

Dean levered himself up from the table. “We’re just doing sandwiches for lunch, and if Julia invites you to stay for dinner, do yourself a favor and say yes.”

 

Sam fought the blush that warmed his ears and the back of his neck. “There’s nothing going on, Dean.”

 

“Sam, you’re the only single guy her age around here,” Dean replied. “If there isn’t something going on now, there probably will be soon. I’m telling you, don’t overthink it. And I know you like her, so don’t even try to pretend otherwise.”

 

Sam stared down at the rough grain of the table. “Maybe I’m not good for her.”

 

“You’re staying here, aren’t you?” Dean asked.

 

Sam sighed. “Of course I’m staying.”

 

“Then don’t _worry_ about it,” Dean ordered. “Just let it happen.”

 

Sam didn’t know that he could get behind that plan. He’d let things “just happen” before, and had found himself with all kinds of scars.

 

He was just now getting his feet under him, Sam thought. There didn’t seem to be any point to trying a new relationship now.

 

~~~~~

 

Dean ambled outside and was glad to see that Henry had found Casey and was cajoling her into a better mood. Casey had been irritable and defiant on and off since Christmas, and Dean suspected it was because she’d expected her dad to come for her before this.

 

He headed to the barn and the Impala, which was one of his favorite places to be on a Sunday.

 

Joe only held services in Cypress Grove once every few weeks, and Cas didn’t always attend, but every once in a while he developed the urge to—as Cas put it—feel the presence of God among his people. When Cas got the itch, he went to the service, usually with Ryan and Cora. Dean hadn’t known their mom well, but he’d known her to be diligent about attending church whenever she could, and praying at the local chapel on a regular basis. That had been where he’d met her, after her old beater broke down the first time.

 

But that was Cas and his deal. Dean had never been a believer, and that hadn’t changed in the years that he’d been with Cas. Dean figured he could do a little worshipping of his own in the barn with the car care kit Sam had given him for Christmas.

 

The slow, rhythmic movements relaxed him as Dean rubbed a fresh coat of wax onto his baby. He was still there when Cas entered the barn a couple of hours later, just sitting on the hood of the Impala, hiding out.

 

“Hey,” Cas said with a smile. He was wearing one of his nicer pairs of jeans and an old dress shirt of Dean’s. “I thought I’d find you out here.”

 

“I thought I’d take some time off,” Dean replied. “How was church?”

 

“Pastor Joe had a nice sermon on Ecclesiastes,” Cas replied.

 

The reference was only vaguely familiar. “Yeah?”

 

“There’s a time for everything?” Cas prompted.

 

Dean frowned. “Isn’t that a song by the Byrds?”

 

Cas laughed. “It was a book of ancient wisdom first, Dean. Or, well, not so ancient, but the principle remains the same.”

 

“A time for everything?”

 

“Exactly,” Cas confirmed, sitting on the hood of the vehicle next to Dean. “Although today’s sermon was focused on enjoying what we have, because we never know when our time is up.”

 

“Cheerful.”

 

“It is, in a way,” Cas replied. “It’s far better than dwelling on the things we fear, or getting too wrapped up in rules to enjoy our daily blessings.”

 

Dean shrugged, focusing on the dust motes dancing through a sunbeam. “If you say so.”

 

“You know, you’re one of those blessings,” Cas said, and the promise in his voice had Dean looking over at him. Cas had an edge to his expression that Dean easily recognized.

 

“You’re such a romantic,” Dean replied with a grin.

 

“Only for you,” Cas replied. “Because there’s nobody else who would find me romantic.”

 

And with that, Cas closed the distance between them. His lips were warm and inviting under Dean’s, and Dean breathed in the scent of something sharp and spicy—probably the aftershave they both occasionally used.

 

“What about the kids?” Dean murmured, not really wanting to stop, but not wanting to be interrupted, either.

 

“I told them not to enter the barn on pain of death. Ben and Mary will make sure they’re otherwise occupied.”

 

That was good enough for Dean, and he fumbled at Cas’ buttons, managing to get Cas’ shirt open through sheer force of will. Dean started on Cas’ jeans next as Cas shoved his hands under Dean’s t-shirt. “Up,” Cas ordered.

 

Dean didn’t argue, pulling back just long enough for Cas to pull his t-shirt up and over his head before going right back to work on Cas’ fly.

 

After a few awkward minutes when hands weren’t quite where either of them expected, they both had their jeans down around their ankles, and they had their cocks lined up so that Cas could jack them both off at once while Dean gripped Cas’ ass.

 

There was a part of Dean’s brain that registered the fact that the kids could come back at any time, that anyone could walk in on them, but he didn’t care. All he wanted in that moment was _Cas_ —his warmth, his presence, the ecstasy of orgasm when Cas was right there with him.

 

Dean was close—so close—to coming when he heard the door squeak. “What—” Dean asked, craning his neck to look over Cas’ shoulder.

 

He saw Sam’s wide eyes for a split second before Sam disappeared back out the barn door. “Oh, fuck,” Dean muttered.

 

“What?”

 

“Sam,” Dean groaned. “Dammit. He was going to head into town. He probably came in here to grab a bike.”

 

“Then he’ll either return when we come out, or he’ll find another means of transportation,” Cas replied. “Either way, he’ll deal with it.”

 

Dean couldn’t argue with that assessment, and he didn’t really care. He was so close to the edge that even Sam’s interruption hadn’t thrown him off. Right now, Dean just wanted Cas’ hand on him, Cas’ breath hot on his neck, and the feeling that he was right where he wanted to be.

 

He came with a soft cry, and Cas followed shortly thereafter, breathing a deep sigh. “What brought that on?” Dean asked.

 

“I’ve been thinking about that all morning,” Cas replied with a smug grin. “You didn’t have an objection.”

 

Dean shrugged. “Like I ever object to sex.”

 

“True enough,” Cas agreed. “What about Sam?”

 

“I’ll deal with him later,” Dean replies. “He was going to try and get Julia to give him a haircut, so he might be awhile.”

 

“And maybe if he’s getting sex, he won’t mind us indulging?” Cas teased.

 

Dean laughed. “Hell, Cas, I don’t give a flying fuck what Sam thinks. I’m just grateful for what I have right now.”

 

~~~~~

 

Casey didn’t have the words to explain what was going on in her head and in her heart. She missed her dad and her brothers horribly—when she thought about them. But there were other times when she forgot that she’d ever been a part of another family, when she forgot about her dad and her brothers, when she could pretend that these people made up her _real_ family.

 

She felt guilty for thinking it, but being with Dean and Cas was a lot better than being with her dad, at least after her mom had died.

 

Every time she forgot how much she wanted her dad to come back, how much she missed her family, Casey felt guilty. She kept trying to fit in, to make a place for herself here, but she knew she didn’t belong. Eventually, her dad would come, and she’d leave.

 

And every day, every week, every _month_ , that he delayed just made it harder.

 

Casey hated her dad for leaving her here for so long, and she hated her brothers for not even raising a protest at their dad splitting them up. She hated that she _couldn’t_ hate Dean or Cas, because they were pretty cool, and they took care of her, even though she was kind of a jerk sometimes.

 

She also hated that she really liked the other kids, and that they treated her like just another sibling.

 

This whole thing would have been a lot easier if Dean or Cas had been awful, or if the other kids had been mean to her. Instead, it was going to be awful if her dad came back, and it would be awful if he never came back, pretty much in equal measure.

 

“Come on, Casey,” Henry coaxed as he approached the tire swing, where Casey had perched when she heard Dean coming. “Come help me with Scout. I’m training her.”

 

“You don’t need my help,” Casey replied, not moving from her spot. “I’m fine.”

 

Henry rolled his eyes. “I _want_ your help, stupid. Come on. Scout likes you. She listens to you. Come _on_.”

 

Casey thought about refusing but found she couldn’t, not when Henry asked her like that.

 

Henry was the best part of her stay with Dean and Cas, hands down, but Casey couldn’t afford to forget that she’d be leaving eventually, and then she’d probably never see him again.

 

Her dad _was_ coming back; he _was_. Casey couldn’t let herself think anything different.

 

~~~~~

 

Sam had walked in on Dean having sex before. They’d shared close quarters all their lives, and Dean liked sex— _a lot_. But the two or three times Sam had walked in on Dean in the past, his brother had been with some random girl that Sam had never seen again.

 

This situation was different; Sam was going to have to look Cas in the eye when he got back from town, and Sam was going to have that picture in his head when he did. He was always going to have that visual—Cas and Dean rutting against each other, their jeans around their ankles.

 

Sam wanted a little distance, and now that he’d gotten it into his head to get a haircut, Sam _really_ wanted one. He debated for a moment—he could walk, but that would take a lot longer than he’d like. He could wait for Dean and Cas to finish, but that would probably require facing them sooner than he’d prefer.

 

“Hey, Sam,” Ben called, waving at him. “You okay?”

 

Sam took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I’m good. I was, uh, just going into town, to get a haircut, but I don’t want to take one of the bikes.”

 

Ben smirked. “Cas told us not to go in the barn. I take it that he didn’t pass the word onto you.”

 

Sam blinked. “You—you know?”

 

“As far as I know, they just wanted a private conversation,” Ben replied. “But yeah, the barn is kind of a favorite place for some alone time. When they tell us to stay away, we do.”

 

Sam grimaced. “I missed the memo.”

 

Ben laughed. “You should take the Willys. Maryanne might have the parts Dean asked her to pick up in Rapid City anyway.”

 

“Sounds like a good excuse to me,” Sam said. “Where can I find the keys?”

 

“In the kitchen,” Ben replied.

 

Sam grabbed the keys and climbed into the Willys, heading towards town. He found Julia’s house easily enough, and he was grateful to see her car parked out front.

 

He knocked on the front door and rubbed his hands on his jeans. He was unaccountably nervous, but it had been a long time since he’d been interested in having a relationship with a woman.

 

Sex was one thing; this was something different.

 

When Julia opened the door, she smiled brightly at him. “Sam! What brings you by?”

 

“Dean told me you cut hair,” Sam began hesitantly. “And so I thought—” He made a gesture to indicate his hair, which was nearly at his shoulders.

 

“A haircut,” Julia supplied. “Come on in. I didn’t have anything else going on this afternoon.”

 

Sam held out the wrapped fish. “Dean and the boys went fishing this morning, so these are fresh.”

 

“Thank you.” Julia grinned. “I love fresh fish.”

 

“Great,” Sam said, at a loss for words.

 

Julia’s grin broadened, and San noticed how that made her dimples deepen. Julia tucked her dark hair behind one ear and led the way inside. She was a tall, solidly built woman with wide hips and a confident manner—and other than the attitude, she wasn’t Sam’s usual type. But Sam couldn’t deny that he really liked what he’d seen of her, and he liked her son, Aubrey.

 

After she’d tucked the fish in her small fridge, she waved Sam into one of the straight-backed kitchen chairs in the small kitchen. Sam felt like a giant in here, although the yellow walls and white cupboards were cheery and welcoming. “What kind of haircut are you looking for?” she asked. “Although I’ll warn you, I can’t do anything real fancy.”

 

Sam hesitated. “Surprise me,” he replied. “I’m ready for a change.”

 

“Brave words,” she teased. Julia studied him for a moment, and then nodded decisively. “Okay. Let’s see what we can do.”

 

“Where’s Aubrey?” Sam asked as Julia pulled out one of those hairdresser’s capes and draped it over him.

 

“He’s with his dad’s parents,” Julia replied. “He’ll be back tomorrow. We don’t really get along, but Aubrey deserves to know his dad’s family.”

 

Sam didn’t have any trouble reading between those lines. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Post-college fling,” Julia explained briefly. “He was killed by a drunk driver while I was pregnant.”

 

There was nothing Sam could say to that, so he asked, “College, huh? Is that where you learned to cut hair?”

 

Julia chuckled. “No, that’s where I got my teaching certification. My mom was the local beautician, and I helped her out when I was in high school. I was planning to come back here and teach at the Meade County middle school, but… Well. The school closed down while I was still interviewing due to the sickness going around. I stayed because there didn’t seem to be anywhere else to go that would be safer.”

 

She ran a hand through Sam’s hair, and he felt himself responding, and he was immediately grateful for the concealing fabric draped over his front.

 

It had been so long since anyone had touched him like this, Sam thought, not since Laura, who had often played with his hair. Sam hadn’t experienced much gentleness in the last ten years, and he felt oddly hungry for it.

 

“You’re going to need to take off your eye patch,” Julia said softly.

 

Sam flushed hotly. “Julia…”

 

“I promise, I’m not going to freak out,” she said.

 

Hesitantly, Sam pulled off the patch, feeling far too exposed. Julia didn’t gasp or make any remarks. She just patted him on the shoulder and said, “Last chance to change your mind about me having free rein.”

 

“Do your worst,” Sam joked.

 

Julia kept up a patter of conversation as she began cutting, the snick of the scissors a sharp counterpoint to her gentle voice. She asked how Sam liked working for Howl—who happened to be her great-uncle—and about the kids. She told a few stories about her college days, and Sam found himself telling her about Stanford and Jess.

 

He hadn’t thought about that portion of his life in years. Sam had once believed that Jess’ death would be the worst thing that would ever happen to him—the worst grief he’d ever face. He knew better now.

 

“Stanford, huh?” Julia asked, her voice wistful. “I think I’m jealous.”

 

“Which school did you go to?”

 

“The University of South Dakota,” she replied. “I was lucky to get a scholarship. I probably wouldn’t have gone otherwise.”

 

“Same here,” Sam admitted. “I figured it was pure luck for me to get in, let alone get a scholarship.”

 

“What were you going to do? Before, I mean.”

 

Sam had noticed that people around here tended to use the terms before and after for the apocalypse. Most people knew that _something_ had happened, even if they had no idea what it really was.

 

He wasn’t sure how to answer Julia’s question, though. He could tell her that he’d planned to go to law school, which would be partially true. He could tell her that he’d worked with Dean in the family business, which would also be true.

 

“I was going to go to law school,” he finally said slowly. “But Dean needed my help, and then Jess died, and we just seemed to go from one crisis to the next after that.”

 

“Funny how that works, isn’t it?” Julia asked thoughtfully. “Time passes faster than you ever thought it would, and suddenly it’s ten years later and you’re in a place you never thought you’d be.”

 

Sam swallowed. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

 

Julia stepped back. “Okay, let me grab a mirror.”

 

He waited for her to return, seeing all the hair on the cape and on the floor. His head felt about ten times lighter, and he could feel a draft on the back of his neck.

 

Julia appeared a moment later and handed him a hand mirror. “Let me know what you think,” she said. “And be honest.”

 

Sam stared at his reflection, his heart skipping a beat. His hair was still shaggy, but it only came to the tops of his ears now, in a style he hadn’t worn since college. And while Sam looked older and was missing an eye, he could recognize the boy he’d been in a way that he hadn’t been able to in years.

 

He sat, silent and stunned, until Julia murmured, “You don’t like it.”

 

“No,” Sam hastened to assure her. “It’s just—it hasn’t been this short since I was in college. I—”

 

He wanted to say that he hadn’t thought he could ever be _that_ guy again, or that he could ever be—happy. Sam was _happy_.

 

“People have all kinds of reactions when they get their hair chopped off,” Julia said. “But you said you wanted a change.”

 

“I did.” Sam took a deep breath. “It’s spring, right? A time for new beginnings?” He craned his neck to meet her eyes. “And this was exactly what I wanted, even though I didn’t know it.”

 

She smiled. “You look pretty great, if I do say so myself.”

 

“I really do,” Sam agreed. “Thank you.”

 

She flushed, her smile turning a little embarrassed as she began sweeping up his hair from the kitchen floor while Sam fumbled his eye patch into place. “If you’d like, you could stay for dinner,” she offered, not looking at him. “I’d be glad for the company.”

 

Sam grinned. “I’d like that, although I have to go by Maryanne’s to see if she has the parts Dean asked for. But—we’ve got some time before dinner. Do you want to walk with me?”

 

Julia’s blush deepened. “Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

 

~~~~~

 

Dean wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or concerned when Sam didn’t show up for dinner. And yeah, Dean had told Sam to stay if the invitation was issued, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried. Dean had spent far too long taking care of his brother _not_ to worry about him, especially when he didn’t come home.

 

 _Home_ , Dean thought. He was certain that Sam viewed Cypress Grove as his home now, and that Sam wouldn’t leave. Now that Dean knew Sam was sticking around, he wanted nothing more than to see his brother happy—as happy as Dean was.

 

Cas came out and sat next to him on the front steps, his shoulder brushing Dean’s. “Waiting up for Sam?” he asked.

 

“It’s stupid, huh?”

 

“He’s your brother,” Cas said gently. “It’s not stupid.”

 

Dean tipped his head back to stare up at the stars that shone brightly in the clear night sky. The air was crisp, still having the sharp bite of a winter that had only recently passed. “I just want him to be happy.”

 

“And he isn’t now?” Cas asked.

 

Dean chuckled. “I’m turning into one of those married folks who wants everybody else to get married, too.”

 

“And have children?” Cas’ smile was sly.

 

Dean laughed loudly. “Yeah, that too. I can’t imagine being happier, you know?” He bumped Cas’ shoulder with his own.

 

Cas swung an arm across Dean’s shoulders. “Yeah, I do know.”

 

They stayed like that for a while, huddled close together, and when Dean saw the flash of the Willys’ headlights coming down the drive, he relaxed completely.

 

But when Sam emerged from the Willys, Dean stiffened. In the dim light from the porch, Sam’s profile was completely different, and as he approached, Dean felt a sense of dislocation.

 

Sam’s hair hadn’t been that short since Stanford, and he looked—different. Younger, maybe, especially with the smile on his face, and the bounce in his step.

 

“Have a good date?” Dean called out.

 

Sam let out a sound that was half-amused, half-exasperated. “It was dinner, Dean.”

 

“Dinner and a haircut.” Dean smirked. “So, how was it?”

 

“It was good.” Sam tossed the keys to the Willys at him. “And now I’m going to bed. The parts you wanted are in the back. Good night.” Sam said it firmly but with a smile on his lips. “’Night, Cas.”

 

“Good night, Sam,” Cas said evenly.

 

Dean suddenly realized that Sam might be embarrassed to face him and Cas after what he’d walked in on earlier. “I’ll be up shortly,” he promised Cas, and then jogged to catch up with Sam. “Hey, Sam! You okay?”

 

Sam gave him a strange look. “I’m fine.”

 

“About earlier…”

 

Even in the darkness, Dean could see Sam blushing. “Can we not?” Sam asked plaintively. “I’d rather go back to repressing it.”

 

Dean barked out a laugh. “Yeah, okay. I’ll just, uh, make sure you get the memo the next time we’re using the barn.”

 

“That would be great,” Sam said fervently. “Awesome, in fact.”

 

Dean grinned. “Never happened.”

 

“Right. Never happened,” Sam said.


	2. Chapter 2

“So, I hear you’re dating my great-niece,” Howl commented.

 

Sam had eaten dinner with Julia twice— _twice_ —and the whole town knew they were interested in each other. After so many years of being anonymous, he still wasn’t used to everybody knowing his business. “We’ve had dinner a couple of times.”

 

Howl snorted. “Do you know how long it’s been since Julia had dinner with anybody?”

 

“Knowing how small this town is, I’m going to guess it’s been a while,” Sam muttered, continuing to muck out the stall.

 

Howl chuckled. “Well, son, not much goes on here. Gossip is pretty much an Olympic sport.”

 

Sam grinned at that, unable to help himself. “Yeah, I figured. We’re just getting to know each other, Howl. We’re not picking out china patterns yet.”

 

“You know, that’s exactly what Julia told me,” Howl replied thoughtfully. “I won’t tell you to be careful, because you’ve both had more than your share of sorrow. A person gets hurt enough, they aren’t careless.”

 

Sam shook his head. “No. I don’t do careless.”

 

“Good. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter,” Howl said decisively. “Now, we ought to get moving. I want to check the fences on the south pasture. You up for a little ride?”

 

Sam nodded. “Sure thing.”

 

He hadn’t ridden a horse before coming to work for Howl, but Sam had picked up the mechanics fairly quickly. He would probably never be an expert rider, but he could stay in the saddle, and he enjoyed the feeling of having a horse under him.

 

Ten years ago, Sam knew that Howl probably would have made the circuit on an ATV, but they didn’t have the gas to spare now, and the horses were actually cheaper to keep with Howl’s pastures and hayfields.

 

Sam had discovered that the dogs were a big part of Howl’s income, but he did a bit of everything—selling hay and alpaca wool, and sometimes beef, as well as the occasional bit of vet work. Like everybody around here, he did whatever it took to stay alive.

 

Roper was warm underneath him, and Sam could feel the big horse’s muscles moving with restrained power. The fences were all intact, with no weak spots, and so the afternoon turned into a pleasant ride, with Howl giving Sam a few pointers on how to improve his seat.

 

Sam was warm and sweaty by the time they trotted back into the corral behind Howl’s house, and they unsaddled and groomed the horses before putting them out to the pasture.

 

“See you tomorrow?” Sam asked.

 

“Absolutely,” Howl replied. “There’s a farmer out west that needs help with spring planting next week if you’re up for it. It’s probably going to be a couple of overnights.”

 

“I think I can handle it,” Sam assured him. “I’ll just let Dean know.”

 

Howl grunted. “Good enough. Go on, get out of here. Cas probably has dinner on the table.”

 

“You know, you could drop in for dinner sometime,” Sam offered.

 

Howl shook his head. “Appreciate the invitation, but I’ve got a date tonight to see Julia and Aubrey. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”

 

Sam had just enough time for a shower when he got back to the house. By the time he came downstairs wearing clothes that didn’t smell of horse and sweat, dinner was ready, and Ben moved over just enough to give Sam space to slide into place.

 

Dean smiled a welcome and passed the basket of bread and the plate of fried chicken. “Pastor Joe sent a message through. He’s heading up north.”

 

Sam still knew his brother well enough to catch the underlying message. It had taken some time to get back into the swing of things, but their communication skills were better now than they’d been in a long time. Sam knew that Casey’s brothers were at a farm up north, and that Dean was doing what he could to give Casey some contact with her family for her birthday.

 

He felt pretty good about that, to be honest.

 

“Good to know,” Sam said. “I’m going to be gone next week, maybe for a couple of days. Somebody Howl knows needs help with spring planting.”

 

Dean nodded. “Makes sense. Ben, you up for looking after Howl’s place while they’re gone?”

 

Sam didn’t miss the look Ben sent Mary’s way. “Yeah, I can take care of it,” Ben agreed.

 

“Let Howl know, Sam,” Dean said. “Kids, don’t forget you’ve got a lesson in town with Julia tomorrow.”

 

Sam perked up at that. “You know, I could probably pick them up after.”

 

Dean and Cas both snorted, trying—and failing—to hide their amusement. Sam refused to be embarrassed. “That would be helpful,” Cas said, maintaining a straight face. “Thank you, Sam.”

 

Sam expected the teasing. Dean had always given him a hard time any time Sam had been seeing someone, although it had always been good-natured. Unless, of course, that someone had been Ruby, but Sam tried not to think about her.

 

Dinner was lively as ever, with the younger kids—with the exception of Casey—vying for attention and talking over each other as they ate. Cora had come out of her shell in the last year, talking as much or more than any of the others, whereas Mary’s hands flew as she held a private conversation with Ben.

 

Sam caught snatches of it here and there. His sign language had gotten a lot better, but he was nowhere near as proficient as the others.

 

Dinner ended with its usual clatter and chaos; the kids cleared the table and did the dishes in turn, and then everybody scattered. Henry, Ryan, and Cora managed to drag Casey outside to play with Scout in the waning light, while Ben and Mary disappeared together as they had been doing more and more often lately.

 

Sam sprawled in the living room with Dean and Cas, content just to listen to their quiet conversation, but not participating. He had just about drifted off to sleep, in fact, when Dean poked him. “Hey, Sasquatch. If you fall asleep in that chair, your neck is going to be killing you tomorrow.”

 

Sam groaned, knowing the truth of Dean’s statement. “Yeah, I’m awake. Think I’ll make it an early night, though.”

 

He said his goodnights and ambled across the yard towards the barn and his bed. He could hear Cora’s high-pitched squeals from around the back of the house, and the other kids’ answering laughter. Sam grinned at the sound, and then yawned widely. He’d been up before dawn to help Howl, and up late the night before talking to Julia. Sam could use a couple extra hours of sleep.

 

He climbed the ladder to the loft wearily, and then froze as he walked through the door of the bedroom he shared with Ben. In the dim light, he could see Ben lying on top of Mary, both of them with their shirts off and oblivious to his presence.

 

And while Sam could remember what it felt like to be seventeen and to be so horny that something like sharing a room didn’t make a dent, he was a little tired of walking in on people having sex.

 

Especially when he wasn’t getting any himself.

 

With an evil smirk, Sam backed out of the room, making sure to close the door loudly enough to break through the haze of hormones. Sam could just make out Ben’s panicked, “Oh, shit!” through the door as he began to climb down the ladder.

 

Sam strode across the yard, wondering if Ben and Mary would head to the house, or whether they would take up where they’d left off. Not that it mattered, because Sam was going to have a word with Dean either way.

 

Dean and Cas looked up in surprise as Sam stalked into the living room. “Sam?” Dean asked, straightening in his spot on the couch. “What’s up?”

 

“ _Your son_ ,” Sam began, unable to keep the ire out of his voice. “Your son is in our room—the room we share—with Mary. And I just got way more of an eyeful than I ever wanted of my niece and nephew.”

 

Dean and Cas winced at the same time, and then looked at each other. “I’m sorry,” Dean said immediately.

 

“You need to have a talk with him!” Sam said, sounding a little petulant, even to his own ears. “It would have been fine if they were in Mary’s room, you know. With the door closed. I can ignore sounds, but I can’t ignore that.”

 

“I’ll talk to him,” Dean promised. “I probably ought to reinforce the lesson on safe sex anyway. No way am I ready to be a grandpa.”

 

Sam stretched out in the chair he had occupied earlier and closed his eyes. “Great. You do that.”

 

Dean snickered. “This really hasn’t been your week, has it?”

 

Sam opened his eyes to glare at Dean, who started laughing out loud. Cas’ lips were twitching as he tried to contain his amusement. “Dean, shut the fuck up. I mean it.”

 

Dean howled with laughter. “God, Sam. The look on your face.”

 

Sam closed his eyes again. “Seriously, I hate you right now. _So much_.”

 

Dean kept laughing, and Sam could hear Cas join him.

 

Rapid footsteps sounded in the hall, and Sam cracked one eyelid to see Ben enter, with Mary close behind him. “Uh, Uncle Sam…” Ben began, but he soon trailed off.

 

“Apologize to your uncle for embarrassing the hell out of him,” Dean said mildly.

 

Ben and Mary were identical shades of red.  “Sorry,” Ben muttered.

 

Mary made the sign for “sorry,” one of the few Sam knew.

 

“And now, of course, we’re going to have a talk about the use of condoms and other forms of birth control that’s going to embarrass all of us,” Dean said cheerfully. “And I’m going to ask that you refrain from removing clothing until we have had that talk, and I have impressed upon you the utter stupidity of making me a grandfather before I’m ready. But we’re doing it tomorrow.”

 

Sam hadn’t thought it possible, but Ben and Mary both turned an even deeper shade of red. “Yes, sir,” Ben muttered, staring at the floor.

 

Mary made a gesture of assent as well, and that was good enough for Sam. “Okay, if that’s all, I’m going to go to bed,” Sam announced. “I’d appreciate an hour or so _alone_. Thanks.”

 

“Uncle Sam, I’m sorry,” Ben said.

 

Sam waved off his apology. “It’s fine. Just—try Mary’s room next time, huh? And shut the damn door.”

 

Sam strode out and was halfway across the yard before he started chuckling helplessly, finally seeing the humor in the situation. Privacy was a scarce commodity around here, given how many people occupied the same space. Sam couldn’t blame Ben for taking advantage of what he’d probably thought was some free time in the loft.

 

Sam shook his head as he heard Cas calling the younger kids inside, and he climbed the ladder to the loft and crawled into bed.

 

In spite of everything, Sam went right to sleep.

 

~~~~~

 

Casey sat next to Henry on the steps, listening as Dean gave Ben and Mary a very stern lecture. “What’s up?” Casey whispered.

 

“Ben and Mary are in trouble,” Henry hissed with a wicked grin on his face. Since Ben and Mary _never_ got into trouble, Casey could understand why Henry was enjoying this.

 

“And yes, I get that you were caught up in the moment, but seriously!” Dean exclaimed. “Mary’s room was _right there_! And what were you going to use for birth control, huh?”

 

Casey glanced over at Henry. “What’s he talking about?”

 

“I think Ben and Mary were, you know, _doing it_.”

 

Casey smirked along with Henry. She knew that Ben liked Mary in _that_ way, but even she knew that they probably shouldn’t be _doing it_ and getting caught at it.

 

The rest of Dean’s lecture was interrupted by the clear sounds of tires on gravel. “I wonder if it’s Maryanne,” Henry said quietly. “Maybe she brought candy.”

 

Henry had a love of candy that could not be measured. They waited silently, and then Dean hollered, “Casey!”

 

Casey shared a panicked look with Henry, thinking that maybe Dean had figured out that they were eavesdropping.

 

“Go,” Henry urged her. “Maybe it’s your dad.”

 

The only two people who knew that Casey had expected her dad to show up before her birthday were Sam and Henry. Casey felt Henry take her hand, and he squeezed hard. “It’s going to be okay,” Henry assured her.

 

Casey nodded and headed down the stairs. Her stomach dropped when she saw her dad standing in the hallway. She wanted to feel unadulterated relief; she wanted to be happy. In truth, she felt a strange mixture of reluctance and joy.

 

She wanted to go with her dad; she wanted to stay.

 

Her dad didn’t respond when she threw herself at him, at least not right away. After a long, awkward moment, her dad hugged her back. “Hey,” he said.

 

“Daddy,” Casey replied. “You came!”

 

“Sure I did.” Her dad smiled down at her, and Casey felt a ripple of unease. Something wasn’t right, but she pushed the feeling away. This was her dad. Everything was going to be just fine. “You ready to go?”

 

Casey wasn’t ready, but she couldn’t tell him that. “Yeah, I guess. I have to get my things.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “We’ll pick up whatever you need on the road, okay?”

 

Casey felt that same uneasiness, but she didn’t want to risk her dad leaving her behind again. “Yeah, okay. Did you pick up Rich and Cal yet?”

 

“We’re heading there next, kid,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get going.”

 

Casey paused. Her dad had never called her that before. “I should grab my suitcases at least.”

 

Her dad shifted, and she sensed that he was anxious to be away, but she didn’t understand. He’d stressed how hard it was to come by luggage. “Go ahead,” he finally said.

 

Henry met her in the bedroom she shared with Cora. “You don’t have to go,” he said desperately. “You could stay.”

 

She wanted to stay just a little bit more than she wanted to leave, but she shook her head. “I belong with my family. You have your family.”

 

“ _We’re_ family,” Henry protested. “Come on, Casey.”

 

“I have to go.” Casey threw a few things into her battered suitcases. “Help me carry these down?”

 

Henry blinked rapidly behind his glasses. “Yeah, I’ll help. Just—if you want, you can come back, you know? You _could_.”

 

Casey sniffed. “You guys don’t want me here.”

 

“That’s not true!” Henry shot back. “You’re my best friend.”

 

Casey threw her arms around him. “You’re my best friend, too. I love you,” she blurted out.

 

“I love you, too,” Henry said, his words muffled in Casey’s hair. “Just—don’t say goodbye, okay? It’s not forever that way.”

 

“Okay,” Casey agreed readily.

 

She liked the idea of not having to say goodbye.

 

~~~~~

 

Dean didn’t like the idea of letting Casey go with her dad. Maybe he was too used to taking kids in and keeping them. Even though he’d known that Casey’s dad might come back, he hadn’t been prepared for the reality.

 

They hadn’t been prepared to let a kid go.

 

Dean tried to tell himself that the reluctance he felt letting Casey leave, the disquiet he felt around Jones, was just normal worry. After all, Jones had left Casey with strangers once before; there was nothing to prevent him from doing it again. And next time, Jones might leave her with people who wouldn’t take care of her.

 

And sure, Casey could be a real pain in the ass, but she was _their_ pain in the ass, and Dean couldn’t shake the dread he felt watching her climb into Jones’ car.

 

“That’s not the same vehicle he was driving before,” Cas observed.

 

Dean had noticed the same thing. The station wagon was nowhere to be seen, and the Cadillac he’d pulled up in looked to be relatively new. The car bothered Dean, just like so much about this situation bothered him.

 

“No, and I wonder where he got it.” Dean wanted nothing more than to stop Casey from leaving, but he held his ground, grateful when Cas put a hand on his shoulder. “Damn it, Cas. This doesn’t feel right.”

 

Cas shook his head. “No, it doesn’t.”

 

Something in his voice had Dean giving him a sharp glance. “What is it?”

 

“I don’t know,” Cas admitted. “But we don’t have a choice on this, Dean. That much I do know.”

 

Dean nodded, and they both watched as Jones’ new Caddy headed away from the house. The sun was well up, the noon hour fast approaching, and Dean wished he’d thought to invite Jones to stay for lunch. Maybe if he had, Dean could have gotten a better sense of the man.

 

Once the car was out of sight, Dean turned back to the house, taking a deep breath and scrubbing his hands over his face. “Nothing we can do about it now,” he muttered, as much for his own benefit as Cas’. “We’ve got other kids to worry about.”

 

“Like Ben and Mary?” Cas asked, humor shading his tone, even though his eyes were still worried. “I thought your lecture was inspired.”

 

Dean snorted. “Yeah, well, they avoided it long enough. I had to make an impression somehow.”

 

Although Dean had made it clear that they were going to have a talk, Ben and Mary hadn’t shown up for breakfast. They had obviously been avoiding him, and Dean had been forced to send Ryan and Cora out to find them and let them know they were wanted at the house.

 

Dean had gone over birth control methods in excruciating detail, getting a grim satisfaction out of watching them squirm. And then Dean had read them the riot act, emphasizing how important it was to be considerate of Sam, and how Dean didn’t want to be a grandfather for at least another decade—if then.

 

He wanted to believe he’d gotten through; he thought they’d at least work a little harder at not getting caught.

 

Cas laughed, as though reading Dean’s mind. “At least until they get caught up in the moment again.”

 

Dean shook his head. “I don’t think that ‘unwanted pregnancy’ made quite the impact that I’d hoped. They’re in love, and they can’t imagine not being in love, so they figure it wouldn’t be a problem if they had a baby.” He smiled grimly. “Which is why I told them I’d take it out of both their hides.”

 

“We still have to take the kids into town for their lesson,” Cas reminded him.

 

Dean sighed. “We’re late enough already. Let’s feed them lunch first.”

 

“Do you want to give Henry the day off?” Cas suggested. “Losing Casey is probably going to be hardest on him.”

 

“I’ll ask him,” Dean replied, scratching at his beard. “He might not want to miss one of his lessons with Julia.”

 

“True.” Cas squeezed Dean’s shoulder. “I’ll call the kids in.”

 

Dean stayed where he was, looking down the long drive, as though his eyes could follow Casey and her dad, as though he had a prayer of keeping her safe now.

 

“Papa Dean?”

 

Dean looked down to see Henry standing next to him, Scout by his side. Henry’s eyes were red, and his cheeks were stained with tears that Dean pretended not to see. “Hey, son.”

 

“Papa Cas said to tell you he’s got sandwiches.”

 

“Then we’d better go eat, huh?”

 

“I’m not really hungry,” Henry replied, unusually subdued.

 

Dean put an arm around his shoulders. “I know, Henry. You guys were close.”

 

Henry sniffed, and Dean pulled him a little closer. “It’s not fair,” Henry said. “Her dad doesn’t want her as much as we do.”

 

Dean sighed. “No, he doesn’t, but he’s got a right to her. She’s his kid.”

 

Henry’s expression turned mulish. “I wish he was dead,” he said fiercely. “So he couldn’t take Casey.”

 

Dean had no idea what to say to that, so he just held him close for a long moment. “Do you still want to go into town for your lesson with Julia?”

 

Henry hesitated, and then said, “Yeah, I do. I think it would be better if I could concentrate on something else for a while.”

 

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Dean said. “Let’s eat so we can get going.”

 

Lunch was subdued, both because Ben and Mary were still feeling the sting of the tongue lashing Dean had delivered, and because Casey’s absence seemed even more evident when they were all gathered around the table.

 

Cas herded all of the kids out the door and into the Willys, leaving Dean to finish the cleanup and take care of a few chores around the house. Cas returned while Dean was fixing the loose front step.

 

“We should probably paint the house this summer,” Cas said, sitting on the bottom step to watch Dean work.

 

Dean shrugged. “I guess. Got any ideas for color?”

 

“Whatever’s cheapest?”

 

Dean snorted. “That’s likely to be a color we can’t live with.”

 

“Then the next cheapest,” Cas replied with a grin.

 

“How about blue?”

 

“Blue?” Cas asked. “Any reason why?”

 

Dean grinned. “None I’m willing to share. What about white with dark blue trim?”

 

He didn’t want to admit that he’d like at least the trim to match the color of Cas’ eyes; that would be far too sappy.

 

Cas raised an eyebrow, and Dean wondered if he could read at least some of Dean’s thoughts. “I think that would work. Would you help me with the garden?”

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

They worked in companionable silence, tilling the soil with hoes and rakes. The rich soil broke apart easily under their tools, and Dean could smell damp earth, a rich, secret scent that lifted his heart.

 

Dean had never understood why someone might be tied to a plot of land before. He had grown up without roots, without a sense of belonging to any particular place. At this point in his life, though, Dean felt that having to leave this place would cause him physical pain; Cas and this house were the true constants in his life.

 

They had finished tilling the garden and had begun planting seeds in neat rows when Dean heard the whine of a bike’s engine. “Sam’s back early,” Dean commented.

 

“He said he was going to stop by to pick up the Willys,” Cas replied. “He did agree to pick up the kids.”

 

Dean shrugged. “I guess so.”

 

Sam parked the bike in the barn, and then he joined Dean and Cas in the garden. “Thought I’d say hello on my way to town.”

 

“Casey’s dad showed up this morning after you left,” Dean replied. “He took her with him.”

 

Sam frowned. “Damn. Really? Was that a good idea?”

 

“I have no idea,” Dean replied shortly. “We didn’t have another option, Sam.”

 

“I know,” Sam assured him. “It’s just…It sucks.”

 

“No question about that,” Dean replied. “But she’s still his kid. Anyway, it’s going to be awhile before the others are ready.”

 

Sam seemed to consider that for a moment. “Can I help?”

 

“We’ve still got planting to do,” Cas replied.

 

They had nearly finished when they head tires on the gravel drive, and Dean was the first to recognize Maryanne’s truck. “What the hell?” Dean muttered.

 

Maryanne jumped out of the cab, and her demeanor told Dean that something was seriously wrong. “Dean! Cas!” she called. “We’ve got a problem.”

 

Dean and Cas dropped what they were doing immediately, and Sam followed them as they joined Maryanne in front of the house. “What’s wrong?” Dean called.

“Joe called me from Arnold’s place,” Maryanne replied. “Arnold is dead, and his foreman, Beam, is badly hurt. The boys there said a man had come looking for Casey’s brothers, but her brothers ran off a few weeks ago, as soon as the weather started warming up. The man got angry and went after Arnold and Beam. The other kids hid and didn’t come out until Pastor Joe arrived.”

 

“What description did they give?” Dean asked.

 

“Average height, thin, dark hair, dark eyes,” Maryanne replied.

 

“Anything else?” Dean asked, feeling a pang. The description matched Jones’ appearance.

 

“He was driving a Cadillac,” Maryanne replied. “A newer one.”

 

Dean couldn’t prevent the curse from escaping his lips. “Shit. Fuck! Goddamit, I knew!” Dean said. “I fucking _knew_.”

 

“You suspected,” Cas corrected him. “We did the best we could.” Cas turned to Maryanne and explained, “Jones picked Casey up this morning.”

 

Dean drew in a deep breath. “We’ll have to track him. There aren’t that many routes he could have taken. We can split up.”

 

“Or we can go back into town and let me take advantage of the phone tree,” Maryanne inserted.

 

Dean frowned. “Phone tree?”

 

“Something that existed before instant communication,” Maryanne replied. “It means that I call the first person, and they keep calling people down the line, farther and farther out, until we find someone who’s seen a newish Caddy.”

 

Dean blinked. “You think that will work?”

 

“I know it will,” Maryanne insisted. “Like you said, there are three routes he could have taken, and we can find someone who saw him driving past. There aren’t that many cars on the road, and a vehicle like that will draw attention.”

 

“Let’s get moving then,” Dean agreed. “Sam, Cas, grab a bike. If we need to split up, I want to have transportation ready.”

 

Sam nodded. “Got it.”

 

He and Cas jogged back towards the barn to get the bikes, and Dean headed for the Willys. “We’ll follow you into town,” Dean said. “Thanks.”

 

“Always,” Maryanne replied. “Let’s just get your girl back safely.”

 

And that was the reassurance that Dean needed; Casey was _theirs_. That was all he needed to know.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam followed Dean into town on the same bike he’d used to get to and from Howl’s that day. Dean apparently believed Maryanne’s assurances that her phone tree would net results, although Sam wasn’t too sure.

 

But then again, this was a quiet area of the world, and a new Cadillac was a noticeable vehicle in this day and age. Maybe they’d get lucky.

 

Sam knew there wasn’t another choice. Even if there weren’t that many routes in and out of town, there were side roads he could have taken by now, and Jones had a long lead. They would look, of course, but there was a chance they’d never catch up, or that they’d catch up too late.

 

Maryanne made two calls, giving roughly the same information both times, and then she sighed. “And now, we wait.”

 

Dean probably would have paced, but his bum leg made that problematic. Sam watched as he fidgeted on the couch next to Cas, who put a reassuring hand on Dean’s knee.

 

“Maybe we ought to call a few more people in on this,” Cas suggested. “If we’re going after Jones…”

 

“Who are we gonna get?” Dean asked. “We’re going to have to split up at some point, and nobody around here has the experience we do. They’re all green.”

 

Maryanne gave Dean a sharp look. “And they went after Angela’s murderer right along with you. Green is as green does, Dean.”

 

“That was as a group,” Dean replied, not backing down. “We don’t know what we’re facing here. Our first priority has to be getting Casey back. After that, we’ll decide what has to be done, but if we send out a posse, we go out as a group.”

 

Maryanne snorted, but she didn’t argue, and Sam walked over to the front window of Maryanne’s small, cluttered apartment, looking out over the street below. He could see a few people going about their business, calling out greetings to each other.

 

Folks in this town got by, Sam thought. People here took care of their neighbors, providing support and aid for the old and sick and orphaned. It was a different world than the one Sam had gotten used to since the apocalypse.

 

The phone rang, causing Sam to jump. Maryanne grabbed for the receiver—it was an old rotary phone, the likes of which Sam hadn’t seen in decades—and answered, “Yes?”

 

She nodded, her mouth set in a grim line. “I see. Thank you.” When she hung up, she turned to Dean, “He was on 20, heading west towards the junction at 85. He stopped in Reva for gas, but he didn’t get much. If he gets to the junction before you do, he can go either north or south.”

 

Sam was impressed, and Dean said, “Damn, Maryanne. That was impressive.”

 

“Phone trees work,” she said simply. “And now you need to go after that girl. Julia and I will take care of the rest of your brood.”

 

“Sam, you’re okay on the bike? Got enough gas?” Dean asked. “We can split up when we hit 85 if we both go.”

 

“I’m good on gas,” he replied. “I’m more worried about you.”

 

Cas shook his head. “We’ll be fine.”

 

They had loaded up on weapons and ordinance before they left the house, and Sam checked the clip in his 9 mil as they clattered down the steps to the vehicles. Sam felt the familiar buzz of excitement in his veins as he swung a leg over the bike.

 

“Dean! Sam!” Maryanne called. “If you need to stop in Reva, ask for Mike Shanahan. He may have a few gallons of gas he can spare, and he’s good with a hunting rifle.”

 

“Will do, Maryanne. Sam, don’t wait for us,” Dean ordered. “When you hit the junction, go north. We’ll strike south to see if we can catch up to Jones and Casey.”

 

Sam nodded, revving the bike’s engine.

 

“And Sam!” Dean called. “Be careful.”

 

Sam grinned. “You too.”

 

He didn’t push the bike quite as hard as he could have, mostly to save what gas he could. He might have to stop in Reva, but Sam knew how hard it was to get fuel in this area of the country, and he didn’t like the idea of taking resources that an entire community depended on.

 

Sam blew through Reva in short order, the bike flying down poorly maintained roads as the sun began its descent. Sam dodged potholes the size of small cars and spared a thought for Dean and Cas, who would have a harder time negotiating the road.

 

He slowed down as he approached the junction, seeing an old weather-beaten sign announcing that 85 was just up ahead. In the deepening twilight, Sam could just make out the unmoving taillights of a car, and he was torn between speeding up to catch the vehicle and slowing down to avoid discovery. The poor light made his choice for him, though; Sam had to slow down.

 

Sam could just make out the back end of a Cadillac when he heard the familiar sound of gunfire and felt a bullet whistle past his head. “Shit,” Sam cursed, cutting the engine and getting the bike on its side to reduce his chance of getting shot.

 

He pulled his weapon and scrambled for cover in the tall grass by the side of the road. “I’m armed!” he shouted. “And I will shoot you.”

 

Sam heard laughter. “Your bullets won’t kill me!” the man shouted. “Do you hear that, girl? If you don’t come out right now, I’ll kill him, and it will be your fault.”

 

Sam realized that Casey must have hidden somewhere close by, and the thing out there was looking for her. “Casey! It’s Sam. I’m going to get you out of this!”

 

“If you come out now, I might let him live!”

 

Sam heard a whimper close by, off to his right. “Casey!” Sam hissed. “I need you to come to me now.”

 

She whimpered again. “Come on, kiddo,” Sam coaxed. “Dean and Cas are on their way. We just have to sit tight long enough to get reinforcements.”

 

The grass rustled and Casey’s battered, dirty figure crawled toward him slowly. She had a bruise darkening her left cheek, and her right shoulder was obviously dislocated, her arm hanging awkwardly at her side.

 

“Good job,” Sam whispered. “Really good job. Are you okay?”

 

She nodded, clearly trying to stifle her sobs. “My shoulder hurts really bad.”

 

“I know it does, but you’re a tough kid,” Sam replied. “You’re going to be okay. I’m going to get you out of this.”

 

Casey looked at him with such trust in her eyes that Sam’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t remember the last time anybody had looked at him like that—like he could save the world. “Okay,” she said faintly.

 

“Come on out, little girl,” the thing called. “I’m not letting you go. Your father owes me.”

 

“He’s not going to get you,” Sam said fiercely, putting a hand on her good shoulder. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

 

Sam had no idea how he was going to keep that promise at the moment, but he would. He didn’t have any other choice.

 

~~~~~

 

Casey had first suspected that something was wrong when her dad headed west, not north, after he promised to pick up her brothers. When she’d asked him about it, he’d said it was a shortcut, but that didn’t make any sense.

 

She remembered the route they’d taken after her dad had dropped Rich and Cal off with Mr. Arnold and Mr. Beam. At the time, she’d paid attention because she thought she might run away, and she’d need to find them again if she did. Casey had memorized every sign, every major turn, and she thought she could find the farm again if necessary.

 

Casey had always had a good sense of direction, and she knew that her dad was totally going the wrong way. When she saw a sign for Reva—a town she’d never heard of before—Casey felt panic begin to bubble in her chest.

 

“I thought we were going to pick up Rich and Cal,” she protested. “We’re going west!”

 

The hand came out of nowhere, backhanding her across her face, making her bite the inside of her lip hard enough to taste blood. Casey’s head rang with the blow, and she cried out in pain and surprise.

 

Her dad had spanked her before, but he’d never hit her in the face.

 

“Shut up!” he snarled and hit her again. “Just shut up! We wouldn’t be here if Jones hadn’t been such a fucking moron.”

 

She put an arm over her face, trying to protect herself from further blows, the words ringing in her ears.

 

 _This isn’t my dad_.

 

The thought came in a flash of insight that set Casey’s mind to racing. If this wasn’t her father, she couldn’t stay with him. She had to get away, to get back to Dean’s house, because he’d help her. Even if he didn’t want to, Dean would help.

 

The man grabbed her arm and shook her. “Stop that! Just sit still. We need gas, and I don’t want you giving anything away.” He must have seen the look she shot the car door, because he said, “And if you try _anything_ I’ll kill you and whoever tries to help.”

 

Casey sat silent and still when they stopped to try and get gas. She would have to get away somewhere the man couldn’t hurt anybody else. Maybe if she jumped out of the car and hid, he wouldn’t look for her.

 

She was good at hiding; she always won at hide and seek when she played with Henry and the others.

 

The man was angry and muttering to himself as they left Reva, talking about stupid hicks, and how he couldn’t get enough gas in bum-fucking Egypt, and it was ridiculous to even try. Casey kept her head down and her mouth shut, waiting for the right moment, moving her right hand closer and closer to the door handle.

 

She made sure that the lock wasn’t engaged, waiting and watching as he slowed down to read one of the faded signs on the side of the road. The big car hadn’t made good time, and the roads were even worse here than they were around Cypress Grove, so Casey thought she could probably manage to jump.

 

 _Seatbelt, door, jump._ The litany went through her mind again and again, until it was all she could think of. _Seatbelt, door, jump._

 

And then the man slowed to go around a pothole, and the right side of the car was well over on the shoulder, next to a ditch with tall grass, surrounded by fields with more grass—the perfect place to lay low and hide. If she stayed perfectly still, he wouldn’t be able to find her.

 

 _Seatbelt, door, jump_.

 

Casey moved fast, almost in one motion, and her right shoulder hit the ground with an audible pop. The pain left her breathless, but she pushed through, hearing the man’s shout of surprise behind her as she dove into the tall grass by the side of the road.

 

She choked back her cries of pain, but the tears rolled down her cheeks unheeded. Her bruised face throbbed in time with her shoulder, and she could feel the scrapes and bruises that had come as a result of her headlong dive from the still-moving car.

 

Casey didn’t want to think about how bad it would have been if he’d been going any faster, but she knew she’d have made the same decision. Somehow, she knew that if she’d stayed with him, things would have been worse.

 

She slithered through grass and brush as best she knew how, staying just out of reach of the man, even though she couldn’t escape his threats and promises. He alternated between telling her what he’d do to her— _gut you like a fish, I’m going to break every bone in your body, make you scream, make you beg_ —and what he’d do to her father if she didn’t come out of hiding.

 

Casey resorted to covering her ears as best she could with her shoulder hurting the way it was, even though that didn’t really help.

 

But when she heard the motorbike coming, the familiar whine of the engine cutting through the man’s ugly words, Casey believed she might get out of this alive.

 

And when she heard Sam calling to her, telling her to come to him, that he’d take care of her, she thought maybe her mom had been right when she’d told Casey she had a guardian angel looking out for her.

 

Maybe—just maybe—she’d be okay.

 

She crawled towards Sam, relieved to see his large, imposing figure in the growing dark. He was huge, bigger than her, bigger than the thing that wore her dad’s face, and he had a gun. He had an eye patch, and his size made him a little scary, but right now that factor was on Casey’s side.

 

And he’d said she was tough—which she _was_ —and that she’d done good.

 

Sam half-covered her body with his own, making sure he didn’t jostle her injured shoulder too much, and it felt _so good_ to let an adult take over. He’d promised he’d get her out of this, and Casey just didn’t have the energy to believe anything different.

 

They both heard the roar of the Willys’ engine long before it appeared, and Sam whispered, “Cover your ears. I’m going to fire off a warning shot.”

 

Casey stuck her finger into her left ear and ducked down under Sam’s body as he raised his right arm and fired off a shot.

 

Her ears still rang, and she heard Sam give a satisfied grunt. “Dean’s almost here,” he promised. “It’s going to be okay.”

 

She believed him.

 

~~~~~

 

Dean honestly didn’t expect to catch up to Jones, no matter how much he might want to. The only thing they had going for them was that Jones wouldn’t be expecting pursuit; he would have no idea that Pastor Joe had been going up to check on Casey’s brothers, or that he’d get word back to Dean about Arnold’s death. Jones had no reason to think anybody would chase him down.

 

He and Cas made good time up until Reva, but Highway 20 was even rougher going west of the small town. The Willys handled the terrain like a champ, even when Dean drove on the shoulder to avoid some of the larger potholes.

 

They were getting close to 85 when Cas said, “There are taillights up ahead. They aren’t moving.”

 

Dean frowned. “Do you see Sam?”

 

“No, and I don’t hear the bike, either,” Cas replied.

 

Before Dean could formulate a reply, he heard the sound of a gunshot, and he cursed. “Shit, shit, shit.” He had no idea who had fired, but he didn’t like his options.

 

Cas was already chambering a round in the shotgun, and Dean cut the headlights on the Willys. “Are we going straight in?” Cas asked.

 

“You got another suggestion?”

 

“No, although I’d rather not have to replace the vehicle,” Cas replied steadily. “I like this one.”

 

“You and me both,” Dean replied, thinking of the hours he’d spent restoring the engine until it ran like a dream. “Better to have the shelter, though, and if we kill this bastard, we can take his Caddy.”

 

“Fair enough,” Cas agreed, and that was all he needed to say.

 

As always, Cas was right there, backing Dean to the hilt. It was nice to be able to count on someone like that.

 

Dean sped up, figuring that if the vehicle moved fast enough, they’d be harder to hit. He spun the wheel and hit the brakes as they neared the Caddy, so that it ended up perpendicular to the road with the driver’s side closest, and he heard another shot.

 

He was familiar enough with weapons fire to know that this was a different gun than had fired the first shot, and he heard a _ping_ as it hit metal. Cas dove out the passenger side door, hauling Dean along behind him, and they sat, their breathing suddenly loud in the ensuing silence.

 

“You’re outgunned, Jones!” Dean shouted, taking a chance. “I’m giving you a chance to get in your car and drive on.”

 

He heard wild laughter. “You think you can kill me?” Jones’ voice called. “Bullets won’t kill me, you stupid fuck!”

 

Dean heard rustling in the grass near the road, and Cas pointed the shotgun in the direction of the sound.

 

“Dean, it’s me,” Sam said quietly.

 

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. “Come on out.”

 

Sam emerged from the tall grasses in the ditch with Casey under one arm. Dean could see the butt of his pistol tucked in its holster, and Sam very carefully kept his left hand away from it.

 

“Casey?” Dean called. “You okay, sweetheart?”

 

“He’s not my dad,” she said, her voice hitching on a sob, although she was remarkably calm. “He isn’t. He’s not my dad.”

 

Dean grimaced. The fact that the thing wore Jones’ face left only one option. “You hurt?” Dean asked.

 

“Dislocated shoulder, and some serious bruising,” Sam said. “I didn’t want to leave her, and I was afraid of what it would do if we poked our heads out, since there wasn’t any cover.” Dean saw the flash of Sam’s teeth in the darkness. “And before you ask, hand me the silver knife.”

 

Dean held out the knife, blade first, and Sam closed his hand around it without flinching. That was the confirmation Dean needed that Sam was still _Sam_ , and he nodded. “Good to know.”

 

“I hope you brought silver bullets,” Sam said, stripping off his jacket and wrapping it around Casey. “Because we’re going to need them.”

 

“When have I ever come unprepared?” Dean asked, releasing the clip from his semiautomatic and beginning to pop out the bullets one by one. He ignored the next shot that the thing took, trusting Cas and Sam to keep an eye out. Pulling a leather pouch out of his jacket pocket, Dean began reloading the clip with silver bullets.

 

As soon as Dean had loaded the clip, Sam popped up from behind the hood of the Willys, and fired a couple of shots into the darkness. Dean nodded approvingly; it was a good move since most people couldn’t resist shooting back, and that would reveal the shapeshifter’s position.

 

The thing lived up to expectations, and Dean heard the shot. The shapeshifter was a lot closer now, and Dean trained his weapon on its last known location. Sam shot at it again, and the shapeshifter once again returned fire. This time it was close enough for Dean to see the muzzle flash.

 

“Gotcha,” Dean muttered, and took careful aim from behind the hood of the Willys. A split second after Dean squeezed the trigger, he heard a muffled cry. He geared himself up to start the chase, but Cas gripped his arm, preventing him from moving.

 

“No, Dean, let us,” Cas said intently. “Stay with Casey.”

 

Dean scowled, but he handed his weapon off to Cas, taking the shotgun in turn. “Move fast, and be careful.”

 

Dean tried to find a position that would let him look over the top of Willys’ hood without straining his leg too much, but he couldn’t. It ached like a motherfucker, and Dean settled for sitting next to Casey, shotgun at the ready, straining his ears for every sound.

 

Casey stayed quiet, but Dean could feel her trembling, could just make out the shine of tears as they dripped down her cheeks and chin onto Sam’s jacket.

 

Dean let out a breath when he heard four shots in quick succession, and he stiffened, his heart beating double time.

 

“We’re okay!” Sam called. “He’s dead!”

 

Casey let out half a sob, and Dean reached out, drawing her close while trying not to aggravate her injuries. “He wasn’t my dad,” she said, her words almost indistinguishable between the sobs. “He wasn’t.”

 

“No, he wasn’t,” Dean said. “He was a shapeshifter. He was a bad guy. It’s going to be okay.”

 

Dean straightened as he heard approaching footsteps, and Sam and Cas came around the front of the Willys. “Shapeshifter?”

 

“Got it in one,” Sam assured him.

 

“Where’s my dad?” Casey sobbed out. “Do you think he’s okay?”

 

Dean met Sam’s eyes, and then Cas’, and he sighed. “I don’t know, Casey. We’ll see if we can find out, but I can’t make any promises.”

 

“Dean, we should probably do what we can for her shoulder,” Sam said softly. “And then we’ll need to get her to a doctor.”

 

Dean nodded. At least one of them needed to head back to Cypress Grove to see to the other kids. “Okay, let’s get her shoulder popped back into place. The nearest hospital is in Rapid City. Sam, if you want to put the bike in the Willys, I can drive Casey in the Caddy.”

 

“What about the body?” Sam asked quietly.

 

“You and I can take care of it,” Cas told him. “Dean, we’ve got it.”

 

Dean blew out a breath. “Okay. Casey? You all right with that plan?”

 

He didn’t want to give her a choice, but he knew how important it was that she believed she had one. She’d been victimized, and it was important that she believe she had options.

 

Casey nodded, and said in a very small voice, “Yeah, okay.”

 

“This is going to hurt like a mo-fo, tough stuff,” Sam said softly. “But we’re going to hang onto you, okay? You’re going to be fine.”

 

Casey nodded, and she looked up at Sam with complete trust. Dean realized that a bond had formed between them, and he asked, “Casey, do you want Sam to go to the hospital with you?”

 

Casey hesitated, and then nodded. “No offense,” she said quickly, looking back at Dean.

 

“No offense taken, kiddo,” Dean said. “Sam, you okay with that plan?”

 

“Whatever you need,” Sam said to Casey. “Okay, hang tight.”

 

Dean had no idea if they were doing the right thing by popping Casey’s shoulder back into place. He knew the tissues would be swollen, and that they might do more harm than good, but he also knew that the trip to Rapid City was going to be unendurable if they didn’t at least try.

 

He and Sam had enough experience popping a dislocated shoulder into place that they knew how to get it done, and done fast. Casey let out a little scream and fainted when the joint popped back into place, and Sam pulled off his belt to form a makeshift sling, then buttoned his jacket back around her.

 

They tucked Casey into the backseat of the car with the blanket from the Willys tucked around her. “Call Maryanne as soon as you have the chance,” Dean ordered. “Please.”

 

“Will do,” Sam promised. “You’ll let Howl know where I’m at?”

 

“I will,” Dean said. “Thanks, Sam.”

 

Sam shrugged. “Hey, it’s the least I can do, right?”

 

“You’re doing a lot,” Dean replied.

 

“Hey, Dean?” Sam called as he climbed into the Caddy.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I get it,” Sam said quietly. “I get why you keep taking in all those strays. The way Casey looked at me… You know?”

 

Dean smiled, feeling a flash of sheer pleasure that his brother understood. It meant more than he could say. “Yeah, I know. I’ll see you. Ask for Mike in Reva if you need to fuel up. ”

 

“I remember,” Sam called. “See you soon.” He started up the Caddy and headed away.

 

Cas put an arm around Dean’s shoulders. “Not a bad outcome.”

 

“Maybe,” Dean said. “But I have to wonder why that thing took Jones’ form and came after his kids. Maybe there’s something else out there that will come after them again. Nothing we can do about Casey’s brothers, but—”

 

“Nothing is going to get close to Casey,” Cas told him. “We’ll put the word out through Maryanne that something is hunting kids, specifically Casey.”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean replied. “I guess that’s the only thing we can do.”


	4. Chapter 4

Sam was tired as hell by the time he drove up to Dean’s place with Casey asleep in the backseat. She hadn’t needed surgery, but the doctor wasn’t entirely sure what her range of motion would be. Casey had full feeling in her arm and all her fingers, and the doctor was hopeful that time and care would resolve the problem.

 

Then again, Sam knew how to read doctors, and he had been cautious in his diagnosis, the kind of cautious that said they knew Casey’s family couldn’t pay for surgery, and that while it might be necessary, it might not be feasible, at least not right now.

 

With luck, she’d be at full capacity in a few weeks. If not, they’d cross that bridge when they came to it.

 

Cas came out to meet Sam when he pulled the Caddy up in front of the house. And maybe that was the answer, Sam thought. They could sell the vehicle to pay for surgery if necessary.

 

“How is she?” Cas asked as Sam maneuvered Casey out of the backseat.

 

“Still on pain medication,” Sam replied. “So she’s pretty out of it most of the time. The doctor gave her a sling to immobilize the arm, and he was hopeful that she’ll fully heal.”

 

“And if she doesn’t?” Cas asked.

 

Sam shrugged. “She’ll need surgery. The doctor made it pretty clear that it wouldn’t be imperative, but—you know.”

 

“Yes, I know,” Cas said with a sigh. “We’ll come up with the money if we need to. Let’s put her on the couch for now. We should be able to keep an eye on her that way.”

 

“Where’s Dean?” Sam asked.

 

Cas smiled. “He took the kids into town for another lesson with Julia, although it should be almost over by now. Howl said not to bother going over there until you’ve slept and eaten and seen Julia.”

 

Sam hesitated. “So, you wouldn’t mind if—”

 

Cas laughed. “Go, Sam. I’ll look after Casey.”

 

Sam put her down on the couch, tucking a throw blanket around her, and running a hand over her hair. Casey’s eyes opened, and she looked at him through dilated pupils. “Uncle Sam?”

 

He smiled at the honorific. “Yeah. You’re home, tough stuff. Cas is going to look after you for now.”

 

Casey gave him a smile that was equal parts sly and silly. “You going to see your girlfriend?”

 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Sam replied. “You going to be okay by yourself?”

 

“I won’t be by myself,” Casey said. “Papa Cas is here.”

 

Sam touched her unbruised cheek. “That’s right, he is. And everybody else is going to be home soon.”

 

“Henry, too?” Casey asked.

 

“Henry especially,” Sam promised. “He’s going to be really excited to see you.”

 

“He’s my best friend,” Casey informed him seriously.

 

Sam smiled. “I know he is, sweetheart.”

 

“I love you, Uncle Sam.”

 

“Yeah, that’s just because of my pretty face,” Sam replied, touching the tip of her nose. “Go back to sleep.”

 

“She’s been in and out of it,” Sam told Cas as he rose from his kneeling position next to the couch. “The medicine makes her loopy, and—”

 

“And she trusts you,” Cas said quietly. “And that’s important.”

 

“I think I’ll go see Julia,” Sam said. “If you don’t mind.”

 

“Go,” Cas replied. “Enjoy.”

 

“Cas—” Sam thought of all the things he hadn’t said, all the things he couldn’t say. Cas had been there for Dean for all these years, helping Dean to raise these kids. Cas had given Dean a home, a partner, and Sam was grateful for it. “Thanks.”

 

He had no idea how much Cas understood, but he smiled warmly. “Thanks for coming home, Sam.”

 

Sam headed to town on the bike, grateful to have the wind in his face and in his hair as he drove the familiar road. He hadn’t seen Julia for a couple of days, and he craved her presence. He wanted to fill her in, to tell her all about the last few days, including what it had felt like to be there for Casey and have her trust.

 

Sam wanted her to understand that he was in this for the long haul. That he was interested in a relationship with her—and her kid.

 

Sam thought he might finally be ready to put the past completely behind him.

 

He spotted the WIllys parked out in front of Julia’s house when he approached and knocked briefly before walking inside.

 

Dean was the first to greet him. “Maryanne said you were on your way back,” Dean said, meeting him in the hallway. “How is she?”

 

“High on pain meds,” Sam replied. “But hanging in there. She’s a tough kid.”

 

“Hence the nickname.”

 

Sam frowned. “What? Tough stuff?”

 

“Yeah, you know that’s going to stick, right?” Dean asked.

 

“Is that a problem?”

 

“No, it’s not,” Dean assured him. “Thanks for taking Casey to the hospital.”

 

Sam shrugged it off. “It wasn’t so bad.”

 

He heard Julia’s voice. “Okay, everybody. Next week, Ben and Mary are going to work on chapter 15 of the biology texts. I know we don’t have actual rats to dissect, so pay close attention to the diagrams. Henry, I want you to focus on chapter 12, and Ryan, Cora and Aubrey, we’re going to talk about the scientific method, okay?”

 

Sam grinned at her instructions. He had to admit that he was hot for teacher under these circumstances. He leaned against the wall outside Julia’s living room, greeting the kids as they passed. Henry bounced when he saw Sam. “Casey?” Henry asked.

 

“She’ll be happy to see you,” Sam replied. “Really happy.”

 

Henry nodded eagerly. “Okay. Thanks, Uncle Sam.”

 

Aubrey danced up to him. “Sam! You’re back!”

 

“I am,” Sam replied. “How are you?”

 

“I’m going to spend the night with Ryan!” Aubrey said excitedly. “Mom said I could!”

 

Sam felt his heart skip a beat, and then he smiled, grateful that Aubrey didn’t understand what it meant for his mom for him to spend the night elsewhere. “That’s great. You guys are going to have all kinds of fun.”

 

“Yeah, we are,” Aubrey said assuredly. “You have fun, too, Uncle Sam!”

 

“You can bet on it, bud,” Sam replied, glancing up to meet Julia’s eyes. She smiled, her cheeks coloring just a bit, letting Sam know that her mind was probably going in the same direction that his was.

 

Dean slapped Sam on the shoulder as he left. “Enjoy your night, Sammy. And thanks for taking Casey to the hospital.”

 

“Any time,” Sam said absently, his attention already on Julia.

 

When the front door shut behind the crowd, and they’d heard the roar of the Willys’ engine, Sam held out his arms, and Julia walked right into them.

 

He held her close. Her hair smelled of lavender, and he could feel her hands burrowing under his t-shirt, her fingers digging into his back, her breath on his neck. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” she murmured.

 

“Yeah, me too,” Sam said softly. “I’d hate to have missed this.”

 

Julia smiled, sweetly and shyly. “Yeah, well, Dean said you’d be back today. Maryanne told him. And, you know, I thought if Aubrey was spending the night with Ryan—which he’s been begging to do for a while—we could have the place to ourselves.” She looked away. “You know, if you’re not too tired.”

 

“Oh, I think I can summon the energy,” Sam replied. “I caught a few winks at the hospital while the doctor was looking at Casey. If _you’re_ up for it.”

 

“With you?” Julia pulled Sam’s mouth to hers for a deep, dirty kiss. “Any time.”

 

Sam pushed his hands up under the t-shirt Julia wore, encountering the rough lace of her bra. “You’re serious? You want this?”

 

“I’ve got condoms upstairs,” Julia said. “If that’s enough of an answer.”

 

Sam groaned. “I missed you,” he admitted.

 

“I missed you, too,” she said. “Now, upstairs.”

 

Sam followed her, happy to be home.

 

~~~~~

 

Casey woke slowly. Her head still felt like it was full of cotton, and it took a moment for her to remember where she was, and what had happened. When she opened her eyes, she turned her head to see Henry sitting on the floor next to the couch, on a cushion, paging through his atlas.

 

“Henry?”

 

He turned to her with a bright grin. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

 

Casey had to think about it for a minute or two. “My shoulder still hurts.”

 

“Yeah, it probably will for a while,” he replied. “But it’s cool. Papa Dean said the doctor gave you a clean bill of health.”

 

She frowned. “What does that mean?”

 

“It means that you’re going to be okay,” Henry replied. “No matter how you feel right now.”

 

Casey grunted and settled back down on the pillows behind her head. “What about my dad?”

 

“I don’t know,” Henry replied. “I can ask Dean and Cas.”

 

Casey shook her head, deciding that she didn’t really want to know right then. She wanted to stay here, with Henry and the others, with Dean and Cas as her dads, and Sam as her uncle. She didn’t want the news of her dad to intrude on that. “No, it’s cool,” she assured him. “I just thought if Papa Dean had said anything…”

 

“No, nothing,” Henry assured her. “You need anything?”

 

“Maybe something to drink?” Casey suggested.

 

Henry grinned. “Miss Maryanne sent some of her lemonade for you.”

 

“Awesome.”

 

“Stay here,” Henry ordered. “I’ll get it.”

 

“Thanks,” Casey called after him. She didn’t like the way the drugs made her feel, but her shoulder ached horribly, and she had bruises on top of bruises from when she’d taken a dive out of the moving car. She was probably going to need to take the pills for a while.

 

Dean followed Henry into the room, holding a prescription bottle in one hand and a plate with a sandwich in the other. “You’ll need to eat something before you take your meds,” Dean said. “They’ll make you sick if you don’t.”

 

He helped her sit, making sure she was propped up so that she didn’t put any strain on her immobilized right shoulder. Henry carefully placed the lemonade on a small table, within easy reach. The peanut butter sandwich was easy to eat with one hand, and Casey washed down the sandwich and the pills with the lemonade, which was the perfect mixture of tart and sweet.

 

Henry didn’t leave her side, and Dean and Cas came in and out of the living room, checking up on her. The pills were just starting to take effect when Dean joined Casey on the couch. “You up for a little chat?” he asked.

 

Casey nodded, glancing at Henry involuntarily. “I can leave,” Henry offered.

 

“No, don’t go,” Casey said.

 

Dean nodded at Henry, and he settled back down on his seat on the floor. “Casey, we went through the Cadillac, and we couldn’t find anything that might tell us where your dad is at. We’ll put out the word, and we won’t stop looking but…”

 

“But you don’t think you’re going to find anything,” Casey said, feeling numb.

 

Dean shook his head. “I think he’ll come back for you when he’s ready.”

 

“What if he’s never ready?” Casey asked. “What if he’s dead?”

 

“You’re one of ours,” Dean replied. “You’re always going to have a home here, no matter what happens.”

 

Casey swallowed hard, and she had to admit to feeling more relieved than anything else. “Okay. Thanks, Papa Dean.”

 

“Hey, anytime, tough stuff,” Dean replied with a smile.

 

Casey smiled back. Tough stuff. She liked that.

 

~~~~~

 

When Sam hadn’t returned by the time the sun had gone down, Dean figured he was shacked up with Julia for the night. He’d expected it, since Aubrey was currently giggling and whispering with Ryan in the study. Dean didn’t think they’d get much sleep tonight, but at least if they were downstairs, he and Cas stood a chance of catching some shut-eye, and they wouldn’t bother Casey.

 

And really, Dean was glad to do this much to clear the way for Sam. Like he’d told Cas, Dean just wanted Sam to be happy, and Julia had put a spring in his brother’s step that Dean hadn’t seen in a long time. He thought they’d be good for each other.

 

Dean made his usual rounds once the kids were settled in for the night. Stepping outside, he glanced over towards the barn, where Ben and Mary were bedded down in the loft—hopefully in separate beds. With Sam gone, though, Dean wasn’t going to hold his breath.

 

Of course, Dean had been sleeping with any girl who would have him by the time he was Ben’s age, so he couldn’t blame them, but he knew that if things ever went bad between them, it would tear the whole family apart.

 

Granted, this attraction had been building for a long time, and Ben and Mary knew each other inside and out, which was more than Dean could say for most couples. There was bound to be some drama, but they’d figure it out, one way or another.

 

Dean closed the door and checked the wards and salt lines. The thing with Casey had reminded him that they couldn’t afford to get lax in their protections. There were still monsters out there, even if Dean no longer sought them out, and those monsters could find their way here.

 

He poked his head into the study, where Ryan and Aubrey were still whispering. Cora had insisted on sleeping down there, too, but she was already passed out on the couch. “Don’t stay up too late, boys,” Dean said softly.

 

They giggled but didn’t respond otherwise, and Dean shook his head. They’d be tired and lethargic tomorrow, but that was part of being a kid and staying up too late—and they could always take a nap.

 

Dean climbed the stairs slowly, his bad leg aching. Chasing down that shapeshifter had put a strain on it, and Dean had never thought he’d say this, but he really was getting too old for this shit.

 

He poked his head into the girls’ room, not surprised to see Cas sitting next to Casey’s bed. Cas wore the curiously intense expression he only got when he was praying, and Dean leaned against the doorjamb to watch him.

 

Casey slept on her back, the only position she could manage with her right arm strapped down like it was. Her cheeks were flushed, and she twitched, whimpering a little. Cas put a hand on her forehead, murmuring softly, his lips barely moving.

 

Dean still didn’t have much faith in God, but he had faith in _Cas_ , who seemed to wring miracles out of an absent deity that didn’t give a damn otherwise. Under Cas’ soothing touch, Casey stilled and sighed, her breathing becoming deep and regular. Cas stayed where he was for a few more moments, and then he bent and brushed his lips against her forehead.

 

Cas slipped an arm around Dean’s waist to take some of his weight, and they made their way to their bedroom. Cas flipped the lock behind them, and Dean grinned. “I’m going to make you do most of the work.”

 

“I don’t mind,” Cas said. “You’re hurting tonight. I could hear you limping as you came up the stairs.”

 

Dean shrugged. “I always limp.”

 

“You forget that I know you,” Cas replied, pushing him back on the bed. “I know when you’re in pain.” He cupped Dean’s cheek, his thumb tracing the rough line of Dean’s beard. “Chasing after Jones took a lot out of you.”

 

Cas’ gentle hands pushed Dean’s t-shirt up and quickly divested Dean of his clothing before stripping off his own clothes.

 

Times like these, Dean could forget what a badass motherfucker Cas could be. He was so gentle with the kids, and could be so tender with Dean—but Dean never forgot that this was the guy who had threatened to toss him back into hell.

 

This was the guy who’d stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Dean to face down Lucifer, and had saved Dean’s life more times than Dean cared to count.

 

This was _Cas_ , and Dean was so in love with him he couldn’t see straight.

 

As he’d promised, Cas did most of the work, prepping himself while Dean watched, and then working his way onto Dean’s cock. Cas set a slow, languorous pace, and Dean rested his hands on Cas’ hipbones, holding him steady as he moved up and down, riding Dean, every muscle straining.

 

Dean felt his orgasm building slowly, surely, until he came with a quiet gasp. Cas’ rhythm never faltered, and Dean reached down and grasped Cas’ cock, applying just the right amount of pressure as Cas moved to have Cas coming shortly thereafter.

 

Cas collapsed on the bed next to Dean, and Dean grabbed one of their dirty t-shirts to clean them off. They both put their boxers back on in silent accord, and Cas unlocked the door and opened it a crack, the better to hear if one of their kids needed them during the night.

 

When they were both in bed, Dean reached out to haul Cas closer. “You think Casey will be okay?” he asked.

 

“Eventually, I think she will,” Cas said quietly. “Are we going to look for Jones?”

 

Dean sighed. “We’re not going to look hard, I can tell you that much. I don’t like the idea, but let’s face it, Cas. We don’t have the resources to be chasing down leads anymore, and we’ve got more than enough to deal with here.”

 

“True.” Cas turned his face into Dean’s bare shoulder. “Then we go on as we always have.”

 

Dean smiled. “That sounds just about perfect.”


End file.
